fearful that he might prove to be a jarring note in the sweet,
dirgelike harmony of his establishment.

But, no. He chimed truly. I gave a long sigh of happiness. Never
have I known a man's talk to be as magnificently dull as Peter's was.
Compared with it the Dead Sea is a geyser. Never a sparkle or a
glimmer of wit marred his words. Commonplaces as trite and as
plentiful as blackberries flowed from his lips no more stirring in
quality than a last week's tape running from a ticker. Quaking a
little, I tried upon him one of my best pointed jokes. It fell back
ineffectual, with the point broken. I loved that man from then on.

Two or three evenings each week I would steal down to Heffelbower's and
revel in his back room. That was my only joy. I began to rise early
and hurry through my work, that I might spend more time in my haven.
In no other place could I throw off my habit of extracting humorous
ideas from my surroundings. Peter's talk left me no opening had I
besieged it ever so hard.

Under this influence I began to improve in spirits. It was the
recreation from one's labor which every man needs. I surprised one or
two of my former friends by throwing them a smile and a cheery word as
I passed them on the streets. Several times I dumfounded my family by
relaxing long enough to make a jocose remark in their presence.

I had so long been ridden by the incubus of humor that I seized my
hours of holiday with a schoolboy's zest.

Mv work began to suffer. It was not the pain and burden to me that it
had been. I often whistled at my desk, and wrote with far more fluency
than before. I accomplished my tasks impatiently, as anxious to be off
to my helpful retreat as a drunkard is to get to his tavern.

My wife had some anxious hours in conjecturing where I spent my
afternoons. I thought it best not to tell her; women do not understand
these things. Poor girl!--she had one shock out of it.

One day I brought home a silver coffin handle for a paper weight and a
fine, fluffy hearse plume to dust my papers with.

I loved to see them on my desk, and think of the beloved back room down
at Heffelbower's. But Louisa found them, and she shrieked with horror.
I had to console her with some lame excuse for having them, but I saw
in her eyes that the prejudice was not removed. I had to remove the
articles, though, at double-quick time.

One day Peter Heffelbower laid before me a temptation that swept me of